Of Hearts and Minds
by Bustahead
Summary: It's a giftfic people. Okay? A giftfic. And oh my god, it's a yaoi? That doesn't involve DantexVergil? Yes, it's Reiko with Dante again and for once I won't kill either of 'em. Multichapter fic. GIFTFIC.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

In a gloomy city, the rain continued to pour down like it had never done before. Rivers of water sloshed noisily down the pipes of gutters, streams of liquid came running along every crevice in the cracked pavement. Yet somehow, in spite of this, Dante quite enjoyed the noise as he sat inside the agency of Devil May Cry.

After all, the noise was welcome after the unexpected power outage.

He sat there happily, nursing a soothing mug of hot chocolate to him, waiting for it to cool down enough so then it was actually drinkable, but in the meantime, he was more than happy to let the warm mug soothe his palms, feeling the heat spreading outwards as the rain continued to crash down upon the world relentlessly.

Though the building was totally dark, Dante found that he was more than able to see clearly due to his night vision, due to one of the many gifts his father had passed down to him. Even so, he couldn't help but be bored. No electricity meant that there was no television to watch, and it meant that there was no music to listen to, nor were there any computer games for him to play. In short, there was nothing for him to do. There wasn't even any light so then he could –God forbid- read a book. All he could do was sit there on the couch, wrapped up in a huge but thick quilt, sip at his cooling hot chocolate and listen to the rain as it pounded.

He smiled secretly to himself and snuggled further into the warm comforting embrace of the quilt, closing his eyes happily as he heard a sudden grunt and a loud yelp of pain. This was followed in quick succession by a series of thumping sounds as someone fell down the stairs. It appeared as though his brother had finally awakened after the mission he had taken last night. It must have been a hard one, Dante thought to himself, for it was not every day that Vergil slept for nearly twenty four hours. Still, he couldn't complain. His job had become a hell of a lot easier since his brother had returned from the Underworld, looking for a place to stay.

Still, this did not mean in the slightest way that Vergil had changed totally, had become more like Dante. If anything, after his ordeal in the underworld, he had become even more reserved and quiet, even more drawn to his books, though Dante was relieved to note that none of them had anything to do with the dark arts. Unless he counted Dr. Faustus as one. The only thing that had really changed about Vergil was the fact that he no longer seemed to think that evil was the way in which to gain power, though he was still hungry for it as he had never been before.

He opened his eyes again as he sensed his brother coming closer. He could hear his growling breaths; he was clearly frustrated.

'What,' his brother hissed dangerously, 'happened to the lights?' Dante swung his head slowly to look at him, the expression on his face sardonic.

'I just wanted to see you fall over so I asked the company whether they could kill the power in the entire city just so then I could play a prank.' Vergil huffed in answer to this and made as if to sit down beside him. He was stopped however, and his eyes flared crimson as Dante immediately stretched out his legs, ensuring there was no more room for his brother to sit. Not one to give up though, Vergil shoved and pushed at his legs until he had forced a space that was barely enough for him to fit in.

'Sometimes Dante, I wish I could be bothered to kill you.'

'So why don't you then?'

'Because after dealing with so much motivation, I just want to have a go at being a procrastinator instead.'

'Vergil?'

'…'

'You might as well give that up now. You suck at being lazy. You don't know how to relax.'

'And you can't do anything right.'

'I freed you, didn't I?'

'A mere coincidence.'

'And didn't I defeat Mundus?'

'No. Your friend, Trish. _She_ defeated him.'

'What about Arkham?'

'Again, Lady dealt the final blow. Face it, you take the credit for all the achievements of others. And people still treat you like a God, even Trish and Lady.'

'Do I sense a hint of jealousy, dear brother?' Vergil glared at him. 'No? Then I guess it's just the stick up your ass again. Vergil didn't feel that it was worth the time and the effort to dignify that remark with an answer. Instead, he watched as Dante got up and shuffled to the kitchen, planning to put his now empty mug in the sink, that was only empty due to Vergil's obsessive compulsiveness when it came to cleaning, something that Dante had at first found was insufferable. Then, as time had passed, Dante had found it to be a bonus. He never had to bother doing work again if Vergil was there to do it all for him. And if anything, the frantic cleaning seemed to keep Vergil happy and busy and more or less out of trouble.

As Dante pondered on this and walked towards the kitchen, careful to avoid anything that might make him trip, Vergil narrowed his eyes slyly and promptly sat himself down in the spot that Dante had only just vacated. He smirked as he took the warm quilt, made even more cosy due to his brother's body heat and wrapped it around himself, letting out a content sigh as he snuggled into it, closing his eyes at the sheer bliss of it all.

For a few moments, he stayed like that, feeling the warmth melt the cold away that he could feel in his bones. He listened to the somewhat distant noises of Dante crashing about in the kitchen, trying to adjust his vision to the new lighting, however slight it was it always somehow threw their vision off if the slightest thing changed.

Vergil smiled slightly to himself before his hearing turned somewhat fuzzy as Vergil sank deeper and deeper into a comfortable sleep. He was soon utterly unaware of the fact that Dante was coming back, that he was inching closer and closer, had paused to adjust his sight and was close to the couch. He became more than aware, when he was rudely awakened by Dante's annoyed shout.

'Thief!' Vergil glared at him, but his expression softened once he saw the horrified look on Dante's face. 'You stole my spot! And my quilt!'

'You have had this quilt since you were a child. And you never think of getting a new one?' Dante was silent. Vergil sighed. 'I guess not.'

'Give me back my spot. Now.'

'Why? What are you going to do to me if I don't?'

'I'll…'

'Cry?'

'No!'

'Then what if you're not going to cry?'

'I'm going to kick you off the couch and hog the entire thing for myself.'

'Like how you were doing when I first walked into the room?' Dante growled at him in reply but was immediately distracted as the phone started shrieking, the noise sounding particularly loud and eerie in the dark and silent building. It was only then that Dante realized that they had been talking in whispers for the majority of the time, as though they were in a holy place. So bloody ironic that it wasn't even funny.

The twins watched each other steadily, each one silently challenging the other to make a move to grab the phone, Vergil unwillingly to move even the slightest after he had just made himself comfortable and much more importantly, _warm_ and Dante, silently daring him and goading him with his eyes, waiting for Vergil to break and answer the phone so then he could regain his rightful place on the couch and take back his quilted cocoon. It was truly a raw battle of will and determination, a very real test to see who really possessed nerves of steel.

Vergil raised his eyebrows, causing Dante to grit his teeth with anger. He knew only too well as to what that look meant; "Do you really want to let an opportunity slip through your fingers like this? All for a warm piece of _cloth_?" Dante already knew the answer, and what was more was that he knew Vergil knew the answer too.

He growled angrily before spinning around on his heel and marching towards the still shrieking phone. Thankfully, he missed the sight of Vergil smiling, yes _smiling_ gleefully and snuggling further down into the covers, watching Dante through mischievously malicious eyes.

The phone stopped its racket immediately as soon as Dante picked it up. He held it to his ear before breathing out a sigh of defeat, angry that he had lost the silent and somewhat juvenile battle.

'Devil May Cry?' Vergil listened happily through the covers to Dante's resigned tone, knowing that more likely than not it was just a prank call, the way it usually was on most nights. There was a silence and then the scratching of a pen. Vergil deigned to poke his head out over the quilt, watching curiously as Dante tapped the pen against his teeth, looking thoughtful. He continued to stare as Dante took more notes down on a pad of paper, tore it out and then stuffed it into his pocket. He cursed inwardly. If only he'd picked up the phone! Then he would have been able to go out on a job and escape the frightfully boring building. Television and video games might not have interested him in the slightest but damn it, one still needed light to read by, did they not?

Still, it was his own fault, Vergil conceded. It had been his own fault for even suggesting the rule one day when Vergil had picked up the phone, spoken out the details out loud, and had turned around to see that Dante had already ran out of the building, grabbing his guns and swords, leaving him trapped in the building with nothing much to do. The last time they had gone on a mission together, it had ended in relative chaos, what with Dante accidentally dropping the very ancient amulet they had been asked to protect and breaking it in the process when Vergil had accidentally hit him on the head with the hilt of his sword. After that particular incident, Dante had forced Vergil to downplay the fancy sword-work and they had also come to the conclusion that they would take missions and fly solo.

After multiple times of watching Dante running out of the house with the job details Vergil had unwittingly given to them, the older twin had made the rule that whoever picked up the phone has to deal with the mission, and that under no circumstances was one to steal the other's job.

Now Vergil bitterly regretted making any such rule. But still, he had honour and he was not about to go back on his word any time soon, simply because it was also a matter of pride. So it was that he could do nothing but glower at his younger twin as he went about the room, gathering his guns to him, strapping his sword to him and shrugging on his leather coat, all in quick succession. Suddenly, the warm quilt and couch seemed like scant comfort. Dante stopped to take a minute to smirk at his older twin.

'It's a job. A real one.'

'Money?'

'Not much. Probably not going to charge at all.'

'And your excuse this time?'

'Verge, not all people are money grubbing misers like you.'

'The majority are. Your excuse?'

'The guy sounded old. Probably on a pension. They never work out all right for them. I'm not going to charge, and if I do, just a small sum.' Vergil shook his head at his brother's answer to his question, his nose wrinkling slightly.

'You are too soft for your own good. There are such things as bills.'

'And such things as loans.'

' "Oh Mr. Bank Manager! I own a business called Devil May Cry where we kill beings you probably don't think exist! Will you grant me a loan while we've hit our rough patch?" ' Vergil promptly replied, his voice high, a pretty pathetic impression. Dante glowered at him before rolling his eyes at his brother's childish display.

'Enjoy your meditating or whatever the hell it is you do. All the emergency numbers are on the fridge. Think you'll be able to dial the numbers on your own?' Vergil hissed at him in reply, knowing only too well what Dante was alluding to.

'Your mobile phone was complicated and confusing. It has too many mindless features. Who would WANT to take a photo with a phone anyway? Next it'll be programmed to tie your shoelaces!'

'Yes and knowing you, you'll be the one to programme it. Geek.' And without another word, Dante strode out of the building, leaving a fuming Vergil to glare at him out of the window.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

As soon as he walked outside, Dante recoiled from the sudden coldness that pervaded his senses and saturated his body. The rain was coming down even harder, if that was even possible and within seconds, it looked as though he had just taken a shower with his clothes on. He shuddered as he made his way to his motorbike, sliding onto it and slipping the key into the ignition with trembling fingers. He wished that he had worn something more suitable, like the coat that Lady once bought him a while back when he had been asked to do a mission in Russia. The coat had been lined with white fur and it had suited him well. It still fitted him but he was soaked through now and there was not much point.

Besides the fur was always nicer when kept dry and he really didn't want to have to ruin a new coat. The blood stains had been a bitch to take out after he had returned from his mission.

He looked down quickly at the piece of paper that he had retrieved from his pocket and quickly memorized the words on the page before the ink ran too much. He sighed and threw the now disintegrating piece of paper over his shoulder before gunning the throttle and roaring off down the street, his tires screeching, the way they always did.

Inside, Vergil recoiled at the sound, hating it every time Dante did that. And his brother knew it! Oh how he knew it!

It didn't take too long to find the name of the place he'd been told to go to. It took the red clad slayer all of ten minutes to reach there, and as soon as he set eyes upon the village, he felt as though he had stepped into some kind of novel. The place was a quiet sleepy little place, the kind that was so small that everyone knew everyone else, and that nothing could be kept a secret from anyone else. It immediately appealed to him for a reason that he couldn't quite place. Still, that wasn't important now. The weather was bitterly cold and he just wanted to get this over and done with so then he could go home and sleep.

Eventually, he was able to find the right address and he quietly knocked on the door, noting the time, seeing how late it was. It took a while but the door slowly but surely opened, revealing a small bespectacled old man. As soon as he saw him, Dante knew that he wouldn't be charging anything for this job.

'Oh…you must be the exterminator, yes?' the man asked, in a quavering voice. Dante knew better than to try and correct him and nodded. 'You came to inspect the noises?' Again, Dante felt it best to keep it simple and nodded. 'Would you like some tea first and to warm yourself by the fire before you start?' Dante smiled.

'I'd just like to get this finished. Where are you hearing the noises from?' Dante asked, expecting to be let inside and led to the chimney or something. To his surprise the man stepped outside, using a walking stick to support himself. He backed away instinctively as the man raised his arm, thinking that the man was going to try and take a swipe at him for being so pushy or something. Instead, to his astonishment, the man simply pointed. Dante followed the direction his finger was and blinked when he saw a tall building looming over the village.

'We can hear the noises coming from that there building yonder.'

'That mansion?'

'Aye, lad. Every night we can hear screaming. There be ghosts in that manor.'

'You want them gone.' The man's silence answered him in the affirmative. 'A ghost hunt, hm? Sounds interesting enough.'

'Does that mean you'll go?'

'Between you and me, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't going to do the job.' The old man smiled at these words and watched him as Dante strode towards his bike. 'Where's the road that leads to it.'

'Straight through the village. Take no turnings. You should soon be there but be careful, it's a dirt road. The mud might slow you.'

'Cross that bridge when I get to it.' And with that, he roared off, his eyes narrowed against the stinging rain, leaving the sleepy village behind him.

---

Like the old man had said, the dirt road had become nothing more than slush. It was not long before Dante was forced to get off his bike and was made to walk the distance. As mud oozed into his boots, he could only hope that there was not much longer to go before he reached his destination.

He was lucky. There wasn't. Pretty soon he came up to a set of metal gates. He gingerly placed a hand on them, wondering whether they would give way to him but it was to his utter surprise that the gate swung open easily, with barely a squeak. He blinked and then frowned, one hand slowly making contact with one of his guns, on the ready in case something untoward happened.

For a few minutes, he remained totally motionless. He barely breathed and his every sense was strained to detect any form of life. His ears could pick up nothing save for the sound of the rustling of the leaves. He could hear no demonic moans, could hear no sound whatsoever. His eyes picked out nothing out of the ordinary and so it was that he finally felt able to carry on without feeling threatened.

At that point, lightning zipped through the sky in a bewildering display of yellow, momentarily bringing light to the world. And what Dante saw in that split second stunned him.

Though the garden couldn't be described as anything less than a jungle, the exterior of the mansion was truly something to be marvelled at. He knew as soon as he set eyes on it that if anyone would be able to put words to the beauty and majesty of the building, it would have been Vergil. He felt a small pang as he thought of him. He would have loved to see this.

The mansion wasn't one of those stereotypical ones either, and it was this fact more than anything else that made it so appealing for the red clad demon slayer. Most mansions were usually dreary things, ones with ugly gargoyles dotted here and there or scattered all over this place. Dante was somewhat surprised to see that instead of gargoyles, there were angels, their faces blank and emotionless, but yet a huge improvement on the twisted grimaces that were usually present.

The mansion wasn't made of a dark stone either, which also made it all the more pleasing to his eyes, and succeeded in bringing a smile to his lips and a brightness to his eyes that had become more and more rare as time had passed on. It appeared as though whoever owned it wanted to make sure that it went against every single myth that surrounded that usually foreboding and menacing buildings. This was no haunted mansion from the stories of old. And it pleased him immensely.

So it came to no surprise when Dante decided that there really wasn't much to fear. He shook his head, about to decide that the old man was surely becoming senile when he suddenly heard a loud wailing cry, piercing and sorrowful as much as it was frenzied and turbulent. So much for his theory then. It really did seem as though there definitely was a ghost hunt on the cards tonight.

As he walked towards the doors of the mansion, he couldn't help but admire the stately grandeur that they possessed. The double doors were huge, and Dante knew that if he found it impressive, then Vergil surely would too. Even the colour of the door was highly unusual; it was ebony in colour, but really, it just made it appealing.

He pushed lightly one of the doors and blinked when it budged easily under his hand. He bit his lip, the first pangs of uneasiness worming its way into his stomach. Why exactly was the door unlocked? Still, it would do him no good to ponder on the matter, rather he would just have to be grateful that he didn't have to break his shoulders trying to smash the damned things open.

He stepped inside cautiously; there was really no real way of knowing what was going to leap out at him for a dangerous attack from around a dark secluded corner. Then again, he hadn't made any noise at all when he had come in, unlike when he had been on Mallet Island and had made a hell of a lot when he had smashed open the gates. One might even say that he had made enough noise to wake even the dead. A thin smile was brought to the slayer's lips at this thought. Then he realized that nothing actually _had_ leaped out at him. Odd…but still, that was no reason to let down his guard. He could still remember how he had been attacked by a marionette once he had let his own inner distractions get the better of him.

Another thing that he noticed was the fact that there had been no dust unsettled when he had opened the door. Then again, closer inspection proved that there was no dust at all. The place was pristine and Vergil would have been delighted and probably would have promptly declared the mansion to be his new home. Which would have been great. Don't get him wrong, he loved his brother, he was his only kin after all but after so long of living by himself, he was getting tired of the constant company. He hadn't the heart to turn him out but…He sighed and shook his head, trying to keep a clear head. As Dante walked around, trying to be as quiet as he could, he realized that it really was a perfect place for his brother. It was quiet, secluded, it was out of the way and it was a bitch to get to in the first place. It really was perfect, the ideal home.

Then he realized he had lost his train of thought yet again.

The slayer paused when he reached the centre of the magnificent hallway, his eyes fixed on the chandelier. The whole place sang of riches and splendour. Yet there was something inexplicably uncomfortable about the whole feel. Someone was obviously here. No place would be in such good condition if there wasn't someone to make sure of it…unless it was enchanted.

At that point, the screaming started again. Dante smirked in triumph as he followed the noise to the source, running up the stairs, the floorboards not daring to betray his presence. He chased the cries down the corridor, past doors that led to God only knew what and then to the door at the very end. Without hesitation he barged right through it and drew out his gun, pin-pointing the source and aiming his gun in the same instant.

What he saw momentarily surprised him. A gleaming coffin lay in the middle of the room, the curtains of the windows drawn, the material of said curtains were thick, brilliant for blocking out the light. But the coffin was sealed shut, and a steel covered lid had been placed on the top of the coffin, reinforcing it. Well, at first he had thought it to be steel but closer inspection of the metal proved it to be titanium.

Dante had no doubts about what lay inside, and he was unsurprised when the screams started again, and came directly from the coffin. He sighed and, questioning his actions the entire time, lifted off the metal plate, turning into a demon in order to remove it. If the person inside was really a vampire, then he'd probably have been starved. Dante knew that an elder vampire would have fallen into a frenzy, would have turned into a berserker and would have found the strength to heave off the metal from the coffin, bursting forth into the night to feed on victims. But if he was right, this vampire was only a young one and as a result had merely become weak and unable to fend for itself.

He turned back into his human form before lifting the coffin's lid and peering inside, his face impassive as he studied the contents.

His suspicions had been correct. He shook his head slowly as he stared at the pale form of the vampire. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted as though deep in sleep, but Dante knew better than to think that the vampire was lost still in his dreams. The colour of his skin was ghostly white and ethereal; he was simply too weak to move.

The scream sounded again, and Dante gasped as he saw that the vampire still hadn't moved a muscle. It was with a sudden burst of knowledge that he understood what exactly was happening. Though the vampire's body had more or less shut down, his consciousness was still functioning. In other words, his thoughts were so vivid and powerful that the vampire was able to project his screaming into the minds of other people.

As soon as this fact had made itself known to him, Dante felt as though he knew why exactly the vampire was doing this. He had forced other people to hear his wordless cries in the hopes that someone would come to help him, would free him from his prison of a coffin. God only knew how long he had been trapped in there, alone and starving.

Dante knew that the most logical thing to do would be to kill the vampire then and there. But somehow, seeing the vampire lying there looking so defenceless, it made him unable to do it. Frowning, he noticed something was seriously amiss. And then he finally came to understand what exactly was missing.

The vampire had stopped screaming. He seemed aware that he had been freed, that someone had come for him at last, and that he would now be safe. How ironic, how pathetic…and how terribly sad…to think that the vampire could not see who exactly was standing over him, but could only place his trust entirely in whoever it was.

It was then that the slayer knew that he just would not be able to kill the vampire in cold blood. It was to ask the impossible from him. He found himself holstering his gun and bending down, stroking a lock of hair from his face, momentarily startled as his fingers brushed against deadly ice cold skin. He began to speak gently, as though hoping to reassure the vampire, telling him that there was someone who had really found him, that it was all real, that none of this was a part of the vampire's imagination.

'It's okay…' he said softly, 'it's okay…someone's here now, and you're going to get out of this place and we're going to find out who or what did this to you,' he whispered. He continued to speak, saying anything that came into his head, always trying to comfort. He slid his hands gingerly under the body, expecting to find that it was heavy but then became at once surprised and alarmed when he found that the vampire's body was disturbingly light instead.

That was never much of a good sign for a vampire. He needed blood, and desperately too. He looked about the room, as though paranoid that he might find his older and disapproving twin at his back, knowing that his brother would probably yell and treat him with scorn if he found out what exactly it was that he was about to do. Dante placed his wrist right next to the vampire's lips, trying to coax him into biting into his flesh. Nothing happened. The vampire was too weak, even for that. The slayer sighed softly to himself before turning once more into his demonic form, tearing at his wrist with steely claws. He let out a soft but strained hiss of pain before turning back into his human form, forcing the vampire's mouth open, letting the blood drip inside his mouth.

He watched as though fascinated as the vampire suddenly became animated, giving vent to a weak mewling cry, sounding for all the world like an extremely hungry new born kitten. He continued to sit there and watch as the vampire slowly licked at his lips. Dante's eyes widened in concern as the raven-haired being gagged and choked, his body unable to accept so much blood so soon. Dante cursed and healed the gash on his wrist before trying to get the vampire to sit up. It was no good. A single drop of blood would not magically give him strength. He was still pathetically weak, and he still hadn't opened his eyes.

The slayer sighed again before gingerly sliding his hands under the vampire's body, holding him close with steady hands. He bit his lip in consternation as the vampire groaned again. Was he hurting him by moving him? God only knew and it wasn't as though God was about to start talking to him anytime soon.

Still, he had to take the chance; it wasn't as if he could just _leave_ the poor guy here after all! And he had just noticed the faint bruising on the vampire's jaw and on his body. Speaking of body…Dante realized only then that the vampire was barely dressed. It wasn't his fault though, he could see that. His clothes had been ripped to shreds, and he had done all he could to preserve his dignity before being trapped. No wonder why the vampire was trembling in his arms; either he was scared shitless by his touch or he was freezing…but did vampires actually feel cold? Did they ever feel warmth? It was then that Dante felt really and truly helpless. He had no clue what to do, and he felt utterly useless because of it.

Still, his common sense told him that he had done the right thing in releasing him from the coffin. But then worry clouded his mind again. Had he? What if the vampire had been locked away for a reason? One that involved destroying the world or something? Well, it was too late for that now and he wasn't about to go near the coffin again.

He sighed with relief as the vampire finally stopped spluttering completely and seemed to calm down more or less completely. Dante carefully stood up, still holding him in his arms, lifting him clear off the ground. Again he was momentarily stunned by the fact that it felt as though the vampire weighed nothing at all.

'It's all right,' he said again softly before holding him even closer again. He paused as the vampire's head lolled to one side, so that it rested comfortably against Dante's chest. Well, he assumed that the vampire found it comfortable; he himself was feeling a considerably awkward. For a split second, he swung the vampire up so then he was slung over one shoulder, quickly transferring him to the other so then he could get out of his coat. He smiled as he wrapped him in it and then held him again, blinking as the vampire resumed his previous position, his head on his chest. Dante frowned, continuing to act as though the vampire could hear him, that the vampire actually knew what was going on about him.

'Well, at least you're halfway decent now.' He scooped him back into his arms and smiled slightly, pleased as the other man stopped his trembling, even going so far as to nuzzle against his chest lightly. He watched as the vampire stopped snuggling into his chest, gritting his teeth and whimpering in a strained voice.

'K-kaa-san…' Dante said nothing, not knowing what it was the vampire was trying to say. He held him closer, allowing the vampire to rest his head against his chest, not really minding it. And so, with a vampire in his arms, safe and for the most part sound, he marched out of the manor, making sure to shut the doors behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Meanwhile, the power had come back on, much to Vergil's relief, not that he showed it. Indeed, his face remained the same, cold, expressionless and somewhat bored. The only thing that might have given away his state of mind was the fact that he was slouching, yes _slouching_ against the back of the couch. His eyes slid over lazily towards the clock and his eyebrows raised, silently questioning his brother's absence. Surely he would have been back by now? The mission hadn't seemed particularly dangerous, and Dante had behaved in a carefree manner as he had left the building. Surely that meant that it was a job that wasn't worth worrying about? Or maybe Dante was acting out of a false sense of bravado?

He wordlessly began to worry about his brother's whereabouts, anxious and concerned. He bit his lip gently before getting up, his movements silent and deadly as they always were. He began to slowly, deliberately pace about the room, finding it in times of great stress to have a strangely soothing effect, finding it an aid in sorting out his memories and his thoughts.

He was ashamed of himself, ashamed of his mad lapse into darkness, angry at his own insolence and pigheadedness, his own stubbornness and refusal to listen to any voice that provided some kind of semblance of reason. As a result, he had isolated himself, and had even distanced himself from his own brother, his only surviving member from is family. He had mercilessly refused to hear him, to recognize him for who he really was; not just a worthy opponent, but a brother to be proud of. Loving, caring, gentle and kind, with a deep soft-heartedness hidden underneath a rough but ready exterior. But above all, Dante was a worthy friend, not that he had ever told him he considered him as one.

Yet because of his own shortcomings, and because of his obsessive quest for power, he didn't know a damned thing about him.

He didn't know much about his habits, nor his likes or dislikes, not even his hobbies. He had been shocked by his eating habits but was also surprised by his extensive library in demon slaying and exorcisms and ghost hunts and the like. After all, _he_ was meant to be the book worm, not Dante.

He also had no clue as to how Dante acted when in a grossly dire situation, when faced with a mission that was extremely dangerous, that carried a high risk of death. Or maybe he just acted light-hearted when he knew the mission was a "piece of cake" as his brother would frequently say. Maybe he really _did_ know what he was doing. Either way, he had no idea how to find out. All he could do was simply sit tight and wait. Unless he went out, found his scent, sniffed out what direction his brother had taken, turned into a demon when no one was about (which was damn near impossible) and fly, still following the scent until he arrived at wherever the hell his brother was. It seemed more or less plausible, and he couldn't care less as to whether a few humans ended up having a heart-attack after seeing him in all his demonic glory. Besides, humans were stupid. They deserved it.

Decided, he swept up his coat and shrugged into it before reaching under the couch, pulling out his beloved Yamato before standing and stretching himself, pulling on his black boots. He quickly looked into the mirror, running a hand through his hair, sending it into little spikes.

He strode towards the front door, his pace somewhat hurried after he had reached into the top drawer of Dante's office desk, pulling out his glove from several years ago, noticing the rip that he himself had caused. It was still red in areas, where the blood stains had never washed out. Then again, the stains were not the only thing that had failed to fade away. Only a few days earlier, he had noticed something amiss on Dante's palm. He had yanked his younger brother towards him, demanding him to come and sit down beside him. He had turned his hand over, so then the palm was facing up and had immediately frowned slightly when he saw the scar that had marked him.

And to think that _he_ had caused that scar! Had even gone so far as to spill his blood!

It was with these regret filled thoughts in his head that Vergil walked towards the door, reaching out for the door handle, steeling himself before pulling it open. His regret immediately scattered and fled as soon as he crashed straight into his twin, who merely stared at him out of sheer bemusement.

'Holy shit!' Dante exclaimed. Vergil reeled before regaining his composure. He secretly hoped that maybe Dante wouldn't have spotted the worry that had momentarily made it's way into his face and had settled into his eyes. He needn't have worried. 'Man, your hearing is abnormal and that's coming from _me_!' Vergil merely shrugged stiffly before noticing that something was not quite right. He frowned at his younger twin before raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

'Dante?'

'Yeah?'

'Where is your coat?' Dante blinked at his brother before frowning back at him.

'_He's_ wearing it. He was cold and I couldn't carry him home _naked_, could I?' It was Vergil's turn to blink at him before he lowered his gaze so then it rested on the pale-skinned vampire. His lip curled in scorn.

'You're not seriously planning to bring _that_ into the house, are you?'

'Why not?'

'I refuse to let it into the house.'

'Verge,' Dante lowered his tone as the vampire stirred slightly in his arms, gritting his teeth slightly in pain, revealing his fangs. 'He's not a dog, okay? He's not some animal that you can just kick to the curb, and it sucks that people do that kind of thing to cats and dogs anyway. He's a person.'

'Wrong. He _was_ a person _once_.'

'Makes no difference. He still bleeds and can feel the way we do.' Dante pushed past him and walked into the living room. He turned his head to look back at his darker twin. 'And why the hell are you going out in your PJs?'

Vergil looked down and scowled. His coat was on, and his boots were on, but true enough, he was still dressed in his pyjamas. He growled at the offending garments, as though that would make them suddenly disappear.

'Where are you planning to put him for the night? We don't have a coffin.'

'In all honesty, I don't think he'll _want_ a coffin.'

'Then where?'

'He'll be sleeping with me,' Dante said simply. Vergil frowned, feeling that his brother was being naïve.

'And pray tell me, _why_ is the _couch_ not good enough for him?'

'He's been through a lot and I want to keep an eye on him.'

'He could kill you as you sleep, Dante.'

'He won't.'

'Vampires are strange creatures, Dante. They're dangerous. You don't know what-'

'No, Vergil! _You_ don't know!' Dante paused before lowering his tone again. 'You weren't there. You didn't see what I did. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two brothers. Dante cleared his throat sheepishly before trying to change the subject. 'Vergil?' His brother gave no verbal response, merely staring at him, a stony expression on his face. 'What does "kaa-san" mean?' The blue clad twin blinked in astonishment, the surprise more than evident on his face, forcing him to speak.

'It's Japanese. It means "mother".' He watched as Dante's face suddenly softened. 'Why? Where did you hear that?'

'It doesn't matter now, Vergil. Good night.' Vergil watched as his brother padded away. He made as if to call him back but then thought better of it, knowing that he had lost. He cursed their stubbornness that he had inherited from their mother, Dante's refusal to distrust any creature he perceived to be good. Still, Vergil knew that only time would tell, that only time would prove one or the other correct. And he would wait patiently; he was an expert at biding his time. He could only hope that he would be able to step in when things took a turn for the worse and hit rock bottom.

---

Meanwhile, Dante had placed the vampire on his bed and was pacing about the room, frowning.

'Sorry to say this but I don't think you can sleep in my trench-coat. I'll need that tomorrow. I guess I can always see whether I have some old clothes I can give to you.' He pulled a face as another thought entered his mind. 'But you're not going commando in my clothes. I'll just get you one of Vergil's boxers. I'm sure he'll mind but that's exactly why I'm giving them to you.' He returned a minute later with a bundle of clothes in his arms and started to dress him, trying carefully not to hurt him. He paused as the vampire stirred, groaning weakly before opening his eyes to stare dazedly at him. Dante blinked, momentarily taken aback. Then he recovered himself and grinned at him. 'Hey. So you've rejoined the world of the living, right?' The vampire continued to stare at him before nodding slowly, offering a timid smile of his own.

'Thank you,' he whispered softly, lowering his gaze slowly. Dante's lips quirked upwards into a beaming smile.

'I couldn't just leave you there. There's no need to thank me.' The vampire cautiously shifted his gaze again, his hazel eyes meeting with cobalt blue. 'So what happened anyway?' The vampire recoiled slightly, turning his head away, taking in his surroundings before looking back at him.

'Forgive me if I seem rude, but I do not yet feel ready to tell you, Mr…'

'Dante.'

'I will tell you if I ever feel ready, Mr Dante.'

'Just call me Dante. I hate formalities.' The vampire blinked before nodding again.

'Dante.'

'Better.' A silence fell between them before the vampire shyly watched him again.

'Reiko.'

'A pleasure.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Vergil walked in at that moment, his face a picture of disdain as he saw that the vampire was more alert if still altogether extremely weak. Still, his brother appeared to be happy about this so he refrained from saying a thing. After all, it was only because of Dante's generosity and his love for family values that he still had a roof over his head. So it was that he silently allowed the vampire to make use of some of his older clothes without kicking up a fuss. However, he made sure to have a sour expression on his face whenever he was in the vampire's presence.

As soon as he saw him, Dante leapt to his feet and beamed.

'This is Vergil. We're twins.'

'I kind of gathered…' came the soft-spoken reply. Vergil smiled inwardly but said nothing. Dante appeared to be unabashed however and continued on with the introductions.

'And Vergil, this is Reiko.' And then in a whisper. 'And he acts more like a person than any other vamp I've met.' Vergil could only glare at him before noticing that the vampire was watching them anxiously. Odd, that a being such as he could actually show some emotion. And then, before he was fully aware of what was happening, Dante had left the room. Vergil growled and Reiko smiled mildly in a weak attempt to calm him.

'I think he expects us to make conversation.'

'He asks too much of me,' Vergil hissed in answer. Reiko looked at him directly.

'Because you do not converse with the likes of me.' Vergil raised an eyebrow but Reiko merely continued. 'Do not act so surprised. I actually get this a lot from everyone I happen to meet. Both mortals, hybrids and my own "kind" so to speak,' he said, his tone one of resignation. Vergil watched him silently, questioningly, only his eyes showing any expression. The vampire noted this carefully and seemed to hesitate before deciding to continue onwards. 'You might have already noticed that I am not like other vampires. At least, Dante seems to have noticed. I heard him whisper to you, which was naïve of him; a vampire's hearing is acute. I'm unlike other vampires in that I somehow managed to retain my soul and am therefore more feeling and more capable of emotions than any other vampire you may have come across. As a result, they hated me but it was not just because of the fact I had something that they didn't. They hated me in such a manner because I could not bring myself to accept what I had become.'

'You refused to take blood?'

'No. If I had done that, I would have been dead a while ago. I refused to kill.'

'A risky manoeuvre for a vampire.'

'Indeed. Because of me, word began to spread that yes, there actually were beings such as vampires and that it was best to stay indoors when it became dark. Of course, there were urban legends, there always have been but previously there had been no survivors to confirm whether the rumours were true.'

'So hunting became harder, much harder.'

'Yes.'

'And the vampires put you in the coffin and locked you in to get rid of you.'

'…'

'They did, didn't they? What exactly did they do to you?'

'I…I cannot say…I fear they might still be out there. I fear they shall hunt me down…and…' He shook his head at this point. 'I wasn't meant to tell you any of this. I was only meant to say that you had nothing to fear from me. I don't understand why I have told you what I could not tell your brother.'

'So, what are you going to do for food now?'

'Nothing. I can do nothing. I can only wait now.' The room fell utterly silent as the vampire made no move, becoming just like a perfect, beautiful statue. Vergil found this to be a great help to him; he wanted to get his thoughts in order and he wanted to swallow the feeling of surprise that had unexpectedly assuaged his senses. Something about what the vampire had said had struck a chord deep within him and for some reason, Vergil felt as though he could relate to him. He swiftly checked about, searched for Dante's aura, found that he was in the kitchen and then turned back towards the vampire, who had moved again, his face a picture of utter seriousness.

'What I say now is not to ever pass your lips. Do you understand?' He watched as Reiko nodded slowly.

'If it so pleases you.'

'I understand to some extent a little of what you have gone through. I used to work alongside Mundus, the dark prince of the underworld.' At Reiko's questioning look, Vergil hastened to add, 'I wasn't totally willing. I was brainwashed to some extent. I wanted power and he promised me power, if only I would work under him. And when I naively agreed, he took away all my control. I became nothing more than a puppet. I was nothing more than his slave, in total servitude but completely unaware of it. But what I was aware of was the fact that while I was in the underworld, the demons hated me with a wild passion, because of my blood. They felt that it was impure, and that it had been tainted by the human race. They could not understand why exactly I had been brought down to the underworld to work as one of Mundus' henchmen. When I first started out as a low level grunt, they used to torture me and burn me, doing whatever they pleased. I had to learn how to fight them and because of the hardships I endured thanks to the other full blooded demons, I was able to rise through the ranks at a startling pace. Eventually I became his most trusted servant. When I say I understand what you have gone through, I talk only of the knowledge that I was hated by everyone. It wasn't just in the underworld either. Both of us are feared even on the mortal plane.'

'Humans have a tendency to fear what they do not understand.'

'Because our appearance is different from others, there are many who treat us with disdain.' He paused here, lost in his own thoughts. He blinked as he soon grew aware that Reiko's eyes were still fixed upon him unwaveringly, his hazel eyes piercing and attentive; it was obvious that this vampire was an avid listener, eager to learn of any life experience he could. 'Before you ask, there is a point in me telling you all of this. I could never fully embrace what I was. Half human, half demon, yet utterly powerless to stop my mother from being murdered. I wasn't able to embrace the fact that I had failed her.'

'The moral of what you tell me is already clear. It has already been afflicted upon me. To refuse to embrace yourself is to cause suffering to oneself. I refused and I was imprisoned. I refuse even now and without taking blood, I shall soon die. I asked to be freed from the coffin because I wanted to die in the living world, like how humans die. I thank Dante for unwittingly realizing my one wish.'

Vergil said nothing to dissuade the vampire from committing his bizarre suicide; it was not in his nature to do such things. He merely nodded before leaving the room and the vampire to lie back on the bed and wait.

---

Time passed, hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks and before anyone was truly aware of it, three weeks had passed. The vampire was still alive though by this time he had become even weaker and paler than was normal for his species. Dante still hadn't been able to understand why his new friend's health was steadily deteriorating, and his worry and concern, so reminiscent of his mother, came to the fore, ensuring that he stayed by the vampire's side more or less constantly. Vergil was dismayed to find that a friendship had formed between the two and looked to be cementing, forming a tight bond between the two. He could see that the time was drawing to a torturously slow close for the vampire, could see the pain that was constantly in his eyes. He knew that the vampire was suffering in what Vergil himself perceived to be a needless manner but at the same time, he knew he could not do a thing to sway him, could do nothing to make him change his mind.

Yet he had the suspicion that if anyone could change his mind, it would be Dante. Hs twin was filled with a hope and an optimism that he had never been able to possess, not even when they were both young. He was also filled with a love for human life that had been inherited from his father. As for himself? Well, he still maintained to this day the opinion that they were all stupid and worthless beings who all deserved to be shot. Reiko and Dante were both alike in that they shared a love and respect for the world in which they lived. It was ironic really, that Reiko lacked a respect for his own life and this angered and saddened the older twin considerably.

His own crimes had been a hell of a lot worse. They had been heinous and the consequences might not have been too bad considering it was going to rid the entire world of the human population but it had still resulted in the fact that he had been pitted against his brother, his only living relative. And what was perhaps the most shameful thing was that he had been a useful aid in Mundus' plans and had helped him rise to power. Because of him, Mundus had come within an inch of achieving his ultimate goal.

In his eyes, he was worse than Reiko. Much worse. And if that was so, then did that mean that _he_ should die or try and commit suicide? Surely not. He wouldn't, he _couldn't_. His pride would not allow it. If he wasn't allowed to top himself then what possibly made Reiko think that he deserved the privilege of escaping from the memories of _his_ past actions? It was something that irked him almost constantly but he never confronted the vampire about it. That one conversation had been enough, and he was not planning to talk to him again.

Still, his brother appeared to be more or less impervious to the elder twin's disapproval of the male vampire and continued to spend time with him.

And when Reiko eventually became bed-ridden, Dante made sure to spend even more time with him. Vergil was at once alarmed and dismayed by the gesture, believing that there was no way in which any good could come out of it. Still, he knew that his brother, naïve as he was despite his legendary status, would have to learn the hard way. He could only hope that the vampire would die an easy death, that he would not force his brother to suffer with him in his last moments. The sooner life returned to normal the better, and Vergil was keen to have his brother back. If he really wanted to be honest, he missed him.

He had become accustomed to the constant teasing and bickering and the arrangement that they shared a place together was altogether easy. Their world was a quiet one and it suited the elder twin perfectly. That was until Dante had brought home the vampire and had started to lavish affection on him.

It was the affection more than anything else that scared him.


End file.
